


Fade

by sinemoras09



Category: Blood+
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Shame, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 07:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saya is injured. Haji tries to cope. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at FFN. Re-edited to include more porn XD

The bruise under her eye is a mottled pink, the purple swell of flesh crowding the borders of her lower lid. Haji unbuttons his collar and moves to let her feed, but Saya pushes him away. She doesn't speak. She lets her good eye close.

Saya sighs, and Haji shifts her weight against his chest. It's enough just to be able to hold her like this, and gently he cradles her close, careful to keep one chaste hand around her waist. She isn't healing as fast as she normally does, and she winces, even in her sleep.

"Saya." Haji gently brushes back a strand of her hair. "You must feed. It will hurt less."

He cuts his palm with a knife and offers his hand to drink. Her eyelids peel open, but she dully shakes her head. He offers his hand again. "Please," Haji says. Saya closes her eyes.

His hand stings, but not as much as the rejection of his blood, which makes Haji's throat tighten despite himself. Slowly he shifts and re-wraps his hand in bandages, keeping a measured distance between himself and Saya's body. Saya's breathing slows, and quietly Haji rises and takes his perch at the corner of his room, nursing his bandaged hand and keeping his eyes fixed on the patch of moonlight splayed on the floor.

"Haji?"

He turns. Saya leans against the bed. She looks frightened and small.

"Will you stay with me?" she says. Dark eyes flick upward. "Please?"

"If that is what you wish," Haji says, and he sits gingerly beside her.

There is the sound of tires on driving on pavement, and yellow headlights arc across the dark walls of the room before disappearing as the car drives past; meanwhile Saya has balled up into herself, hugging her arms and curling her knees to her chin. The monsters she's killed are countless but she is no less battle-scared: Haji can see the small cuts and bruises on her arms.

She's dizzy and she can't stand, so Haji picks her up and helps her onto the bed. "Haji," she says, and he sits beside her. She turns and presses her face against his lap. "I feel like I can't open my eyes."

"Do not strain yourself," Haji says, and she rests her head against his stomach, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You are still healing. It is all the more reason you must feed."

She can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing under her cheek, and she feels a hand gently rest against her head. "I'm too dizzy to sit up," Saya says, and Haji gently shifts her weight, lying chastely beside her and undoing the collar to his shirt.

Saya moves, resting on top of him as she pulls back Haji's collar.

He seems to be holding his breath, and Saya leans forward, breathing in the scent of his skin before letting her lips brush over the tender pulse. Gooseflesh rises on the delicate skin there, and Saya pauses, rubbing her mouth over the strap muscles of his neck and the hollow of his collarbone.

She bites down, and blood gushes into her mouth.

Haji's eyes fall closed, and Saya nurses on him, gently. Blood trickles down her chin and Saya quietly begins to unbutton the rest of Haji's shirt-she does not want to soil his clothes-and she feels his muscles tense. A thin trickle of blood rolls down the front of Haji's chest, and Saya moves, lapping it with her tongue.

He imagines what it would be like. How, with half-lidded eyes, she would clamber up against his lap, blouse unbuttoned and pebbled nipples against his shirt front. Headlights would pass and for a brief moment the darkness would snap in bright, taut bursts, shadows sinking and receding in time with her movements, the rocking of her hips as she drives herself onto him.

There is a sound, an almost inaudible groan, and Saya lifts her head slightly, a little shocked at the noise Haji made. She lets her hand fall over his bare stomach, lightly pulling at the sensitive hairs below his navel, trailing the waistband of his pants and the muscle of his thigh. Haji sighs again, and idly she wonders about the other pulse-points of his body, answering pulses on his arms and wrists and groin.

Because she can't help herself, she rubs her mouth lightly over his stomach, lets the pinpricks of her teeth scratch lightly on his skin. Her hand ghosts the pulse by his thigh.

"Saya." His voice is tight and Saya pulls back, abruptly.

"Did I hurt you?" Saya grips his arm, tight.

Haji's face is red. He shakes his head.

"No," Haji says. "Forgive me."

He is breathing hard and looking at her strangely, and Saya worries for a moment she has taken too much of his blood. He seems to sense this, because he smiles and squeezes her hand.

She falls asleep. Just as she does, she feels Haji gently draping a blanket over her shoulders.

 

*****

 

There is a noise, and Saya blearily opens her eyes.

There it is: a rustling of fabric, beating and rhythmic, and dimly Saya is aware of Haji crouched in the corner. He always stays near her when she's asleep, and tonight is no different.

No different, except for that hitch in Haji's breath, and the soft, furtive sounds of flesh beating over flesh.

Saya freezes. Her mind spins, but for all her innocence Saya knows exactly what he's doing.

They shared only that cramped hotel room, and he couldn't go on the rooftops-propriety and a healthy sense of shame likely kept him from exposing himself out in the open like that-and the acoustics of the bathroom were such that they amplified everything. Joel once said it was a natural function, like belching or using the toilet. She squeezes her eyes, determined to ignore it.

Except that she can't; the night is painfully quiet except for Haji's ragged breathing and the rough, desperate movements of his hand on himself. She wants to lift her head, wants to see exactly what he's doing, but she knows that even the slightest movement would alert Haji to her wakefulness.

So she lies there, forcing herself to focus on other things: the way her mattress feels, the grain of sheets against her skin, face red and painfully wet. Reflexively her mind conjures an image of Haji holding her sword, and Saya finds she knows exactly how his fingers would curl around himself, can picture his eyes squeezed shut and how his mouth would pant against one muffled sleeve.

She had been sleeping on her stomach; now she can't quite help the way her body strains against the mattress, squirming and squeezing her thighs. She can hear Haji panting harder now, breath taut and the sound of his hand faster and more erratic, and it takes all of hear willpower not to snake her hand between her legs and touch herself as well.

Haji is breathing harder now; she can hear him straining, can hear each taut breath and shaky exhale, and despite herself she's grinding her hips and clit against the bed.

There's a voice inside of her, a wicked voice that points out that they're both doing it, they might as well feel good together, but it's Haji and this is not the purpose for her life, which is knit together by the pain of others' suffering. She thinks of Joel and Diva and the way her wicked body betrays her when her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden sharp intake of breath.

He's close. Saya presses her thighs tighter, rocking her hips against the mattress, unbearably aroused. The sound of his hand is more frantic, each breath winding tighter and tighter until Haji gasps and slumps over, panting softly.

She had just heard Haji come.

"Saya."

Saya freezes. Her core is still pressed hard against the mattress, and she quivers slightly, just on the edge of orgasm. Did he hear her? Did he know she was awake?

But no. She hears Haji rise, unsteady and feeling ashamed, disappearing into the bathroom next door.

The next morning, Haji is careful not to touch her. He avoids her eyes and leaves before she can say anything, the sound of his wings vaulting through the window.

 

*****

 

This is what should happen:

A watery gray light filters through the dingy room, and Saya wakes to the feel of Haji's face pressed against her neck. She shifts slightly. His arm is around her waist, and when she moves, he tightens his grip, breathing deep and pressing her against his chest. He feels warm. Saya sighs and settles against him, pulling his hand to her face.

Time passes; soon a thin square of light falls on Saya's face. She blinks, then opens her eyes. Haji is still holding her. Slowly, Saya turns and faces him. Haji's eyes open. They watch each other for what seem like years before Saya reaches up and kisses him softly on the mouth.

The springs creak when Saya moves to straddle him on his lap, pushing him down against the shabby mattress. The air is cold and stale and her hair falls over her face in a tangled curtain, but he feels warm and good and she shudders slightly, a muted rush of pleasure building up at the base of her spine. She arches up, and he dips his head and presses his face against the curve of her belly, the tips of his claws feather-light and scraping against her skin.

Saya groans, and he rolls her onto her back. He's kissing her mouth, her neck, traces a line from her lips to the hollow over her collarbone, the spaces behind her ear. Calloused hands drag up her shirt and expose her breasts, and he's kissing there too, hot mouth on hard nipples; she gathers her fingers in his hair and moans as he dips lower, his mouth tracing the curve of her belly and between her legs.

"Oh!" Saya throws her head back as he nurses her clit, her muscles beginning to clench. "Oh!"

She comes hard, gasping and spasming against him. Her voice is hoarse and she's shaking slightly, and suddenly Haji's shoving her down, kissing her hard and gathering her in his arms. His mouth collides against hers; his hands press greedily against her skin. The movements are frantic now, hungry, desperate. He spreads her roughly open and her knees knock into the sides of his ribs. She feels him at her entrance; his breath hitches in his throat. He's trying not to hurt her.

"Just do it," Saya says. "Haji, please-"

Haji takes a breath, and in one swift movement penetrates her. Saya gasps; it's too much, too fast, oh god it feels good, she claws her hands against his back. "Don't stop, don't stop," she says, and he buries his face against her shoulder as he pushes back inside of her...

 

*****

 

This is what does happen:

Saya moves and Haji chastely removes himself from her grip, gently peeling off her fingers and carefully rising from the bed. He pours her a glass of water and hands it to her, and Saya drinks, gratefully.

The curtains move. Sunshine spills into the dingy room.

 

*****

 

_It's enough just to be able to hold her like this, and gently he cradles her close, careful to keep one chaste hand around her waist. She isn't healing as fast as she normally does, and she winces, even in her sleep._

_"Saya." Haji gently brushes back a strand of her hair. "You must feed. It will hurt less."_

_"I'm fine," Saya says, and she smiles into Haji's neck._

_Headlights arc across them, and Haji smiles, closing his eyes._

 


End file.
